


Giggles, Though

by allofthepixels



Series: Bestest 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Babysitter Castiel, Bestest 'Verse, College AU, Lifeguard Dean, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:11:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthepixels/pseuds/allofthepixels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s first drill night with the Lifeguards is pretty much the closest thing their squad could get to hazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Giggles, Though

**Author's Note:**

> An introduction to my fluffy Destiel College/Lifeguard AU feat. Lifeguard!Dean and Babysitter!Cas

"Circle up!" Lisa, the Head Guard, blew her whistle once, ushering the guards who actually showed up to finish up their warm-up lap swim.

The club paid them a ridiculous amount for their weekly two hour drill and training sessions, so she didn’t mind making sure everyone got an alright workout out of the deal. If only the rest of her senior guards would make an appearance.

The fraction of the squad in attendance waded over to the shallow end as she took a quick head count.

Dean, a recent hire, took the chance to survey the team.

There was Jo, his family friend who scored him an interview at the country club even though he teased her relentlessly about her small stature keeping her from being a good guard. 

Lisa was alright, a bit of a type-A personality for Dean’s taste, with the tendency to end sentences with a question as if she needed to seek validation. She always had a sweet smile, some extra sunscreen and zinc and an arsenal of pleasant small talk when he arrived on deck. 

Meg probably scared him the most. She was all dark eyes, caustic tone and dangerous hips. She was the first to address him at orientation with a threatening/arousing/he wasn’t sure which once-over before appraising him as the “new meat.”

Balthazar was the oldest lifeguard Dean had ever met, pushing 25. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t have an adult job but figured it had something to do with the unearthly and aggressively even tan that somehow had absolutely 0 lines.

And then there was Benny, he knew him best from their first week of working shifts together. He spoke with an easy drawl and had a playful disposition that was downright cuddly. He was burly compared to the other guards but he was also the state record holder for 100 Meter Butterfly and 200 IM. Dean wouldn’t want to race him, for sure. 

"Winchester, you’re the floater. Got it?" Lisa blew her whistle again and Dean blinked at her. 

"I’m a what-now?"

"Floater," Meg rolled her eyes, waving her fingers dismissively toward the deep end. "It means you go over there, go under and don’t come up til the bubbles stop."

"Meg," Lisa warned. "Dean, we’re simulating an unresponsive victim with a presumed neck injury. Okay?" 

She spoke slowly and Dean picked through scenarios from his most recent certification class. Okay, unresponsive and neck injury that means…

“Balth, go get the backboard? And please double check the straps for once!” Lisa waved the older man off to get the large orange contraption from the side of the Lifeguard chair. “We’ll start with a full team demo and then do duo, trios and quads, yeah?”

Jo shuffled up to Dean’s side.

"D’aw, you get to be the drowning bitch!" She wrapped her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him under water, he flung her back a foot sending her splashing into the mid-level water. 

"Everyone gets a turn," Benny gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don’t mean anything. You’re the one with the most recent certs and the most recent practice, is all." 

"Gotcha," Dean readied himself to go fake drown somewhere under the diving board. "Y’all are just gonna lift me out and —"

"Basically, yeah," Lisa appeared behind him, he supposed it was to give him the play-by-play. "We’ll do manual neck support and lift you out of the pool first to make sure the new backboard straps are alright and then we’ll do a few more run-thrus before we rotate. Sound good?"

Dean nodded before launching himself into a dolphin dive over to the deep end. His stomach skimmed the bottom of the pool and he took a minute to look up and see the sunset colors through the chlorinated water. After a second or two he heard the faint sounds of a whistle, the single long blast used for rescues and assumed what he considered an “unconscious” position with limp limbs drawn out to each side.

He closed his eyes and tried to keep track of the air in his lungs when the first hands grabbed him. They lifted him over the rescue tube, fingers moving to his chin and along his face to stabilize his neck. He remembered it from training but these hands didn’t feel like Garth, his training partner’s hands. There were nails and they gently grazed at his jawline, clearly accidentally but still lethal. He wiggled his neck in an attempt to shake the feeling. 

"Dean, you’re supposed to pretend you’re unresponsive, okay?" Lisa whispered as they hit the surface. He nodded weakly and went limp again as Lisa talked the guards through the proper way to handle a presumed neck injury. 

With a little more instruction they began to get Dean on the board. Jo saddled up at his neck and put on the neck straps, making faces at him as she placed the large foam blocks in their velcro locations.

He couldn’t look down with the neck supports in place but he felt a colder summer breeze hit his wet skin as the board was held just at the surface of the water. Hands began strapping down the restraints over his chest, thighs feet. He hated this. Thank God he could swim and had the sense not to dive anywhere dumb. He would probably never have to be put in one of these things in earnest.

"Make sure they’re secure," Lisa reminded from his side as he felt one of the straps around his arms get a bit closer to his skin. "That’s the difference between stabilizing and letting a back break."

Dean imagined Lisa was fun at parties.

"Careful now, Balth, you don’t need to tie that it’s velcro!" He felt the board jostle a bit, water splashing up toward his face but not hitting him. 

"Here, let me," and Dean swears up and down that he didn’t squeal. It absolutely did not happen that way, regardless of what Benny and Jo said. But Lisa’s long nails, Coke fingers Dean cursed, scraped at just the wrong angle from his heel to his instep, sliding on the still wet skin. It made him jump a little. Only a little.

"It’s a miracle! He’s alive!" Balthazar chuckled, raising part of the backboard in a mock holy gesture. 

"What part of unresponsive victim are you forgetting?" Meg rolled her eyes. 

"Sorry, I just, I mean," Dean mumbled, feeling his face go red. 

"Oh! Did she hit the feet?" Jo had this vicious look and Dean flexed his arms, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he was. He started to reach for the straps. "That’s no good."

"Jo, shut your freakin’ trap so help me-" Dean couldn’t finish that sentence. Instead he held his breath, to fight back the yelp in the back of his throat from a hand squeezing at the top of his knee.

"Rookie’s ticklish?" It was Benny, letting out a deep belly laugh as his short but devastating nails opened and closed over the top of his knee. "This is the closest we gonna get to a hazin’." 

"Benny," Lisa reprimanded but there was nothing really behind it. "We do need to finish the drill."

"Let’s call it a head injury we need to keep awake?" Meg giggled and Dean felt another set of fingers near the top of his left foot. He tried to kick and only managed to get a face full of pool water. "Can’t have him passing out and going into a coma, can we?"

"Wanna know what’s a really bad spot?"

Jo’s voice had moved from directly overhead and if he wasn’t clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth he would be giving her his biggest, Sam-inspired puppy dog eyes and apologizing for every mean word he ever said and every time he and his brother pinned her down and tickled her to tears. 

"Jo, if you fucki-heehee!" He felt a pinch of fingers at his bare sides and Dean knew where she was going. Her knowledge of his, uh, sensitive spots was deadly accurate. 

"What was that?" Balthazar teased. "This is really killing my image of you as the pinnacle of masculinity, Love."

"Fuhauck. You-ho." Dean gritted out, another sound bubbling out of his throat that he knew was only encouraging them. Fuckin’ sharks. 

"One thing I love about Deany," nails were moving closer and Dean wanted to scream. "His hips don’t lie."

"Jo-hohoo!"

Dean would’ve tossed his head back in laughter if he could have. Her nails, though not on Lisa’s level, were unforgiving as they skittered right along the bones of his hips. They were excruciating. He quickly lost any remaining delusions of keeping his laughter in as the fingers weaved along his flanks and over his stomach. He thrashed but the board was held in place as full, unguarded belly laughter was forced out of him. 

"Nahhahat thehahare, plea-heeheese!"

He’d once thought of himself as too proud to beg but rethought it when he lost track of hands attacking his feet, sides and legs. 

"Let him breathe!" Lisa admonished, though Dean could swear he felt her claws around his ankle only moments before. 

"Aye-haha-I quihit!" Dean blinked back tears, his arms and legs struggling weakly against the restraints. "I quit."

"You do not." Jo rolled her eyes and spidered a clawed hand over Dean’s belly, right at the tiny bit of pudge his ex-girlfriend, Cassie, had dubbed his "gummy tummy."

His protest came out as a sugary sweet burst of laughter, light and uninhibited and drawing an “Aw” from his co-workers.

"Hey, do that again!" Benny’s hand repeated the motion and Dean flinched, half-expecting it, but letting out the same thing. A little giggle.

"That’s too precious," Lisa cooed. Dean blushed hard.

"I think I need an insulin shot," Meg muttered. He was sure his face was beet-red. 

They eased him up onto the pool deck, skillfully sneaking pokes and prods to the vulnerable areas as they undid the straps. 

"You think you can hold it together for real this time?" Benny knelt over him as he took off the neck stabilizers. "Ey, Giggles?"

"Giggles?" Dean couldn’t hide the look on his face, one of pure mortification. 

"It’s a nickname, Brother," Benny through an arm over his shoulder. "A term of endearment."

He punctuated the last word with a devious poke to Dean’s underarm.

"Save your endearments for your lady-friends, Laffitte," Dean smacked him away, squirming out of his grip.

He was interrupted by the whistle, Lisa trying to regain order in the cacophony. 

"Giggles!" She called. "You’re the floater."

Dean groaned, willing himself to actually drown. It was going to be a long summer.


End file.
